


A Drop of Blood in the Dawn

by Nyxelestia



Series: Virtues, Chicken, and Destiny [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Violence, Chicken and Destiny, Ensemble Cast, Episode: s04e08 Lamia, Espionage, Eventual Magic Reveal, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Mind Control, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Season/Series 04, Slow Build, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:09:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia/pseuds/Nyxelestia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <i><b>(</b>Contrition<b>)</b></i><br/></p>
</div><br/>Despite the treachery in his castle, life in the kingdom goes on, and Arthur's people still need help. Unfortunately, being king means he can no longer attend to his people himself - and that means having to let his friends go for him. He doesn't like letting them out of his sight, though, and cannot get rid of the feeling that something bad will happen to them while they're gone.<p>Sometimes, Arthur hates being right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All thanks goes to AngelQueen for beta'ing this story. ♥

~*~

>   
> __
> 
> Red Sky in Morning
> 
> Sailor’s Warning
> 
> Red Sky at Night
> 
> Sailor’s Delight

Exhaustion ate at Arthur like a disease, wasting him away even when he was only sitting at his table and talking to his knights, Guinevere, and Merlin.

He’d already had trouble sleeping when he was just worried about finding Morgana and trying to discover the traitor’s identiy. Now, though, they knew who the traitor was. The night before had been a rough one. Arthur was still sore in body from Morgana throwing him around, as were all the knights. But it was not his body that concerned him today.

He was still far, far more pained in his soul – not just from seeing how far his sister had really fallen, but also finally finding out who the traitor was. Discovering the traitor, and discovering that he really had no family left-

“Arthur, I want Agravaine dealt with as much as you do,” Leon said, folding his arms in front of him. “But we don’t know where Morgana is, now that she knows we saw her hovel – Agravaine can lead us to her new location.”

-except for the one haranguing him now.

Arthur glared at his table as the knights stood around him. Guinevere sat beside him, and Merlin was doing his usual puttering around, cleaning up the various small messes around Arthur’s chambers.

“Leon’s right, Arthur,” Guinevere said from her seat beside him. She put her hand in his elbow and gripped gently but firmly. “You must not act rashly.”

“He’s _betraying_ me,” Arthur hissed, clenching his fist before he wrapped it around his sword in anger. “And he’s putting all of you in danger – all of Camelot!”

“Then let’s not just end the danger with him,” Elyan pointed out, leaning against the table. “Let’s use him to end the danger from Morgana as well.”

Percival, the only other knight still sitting at the table after their light breakfast, nodded in agreement. None of them had slept well last night, and the morning sunlight weighed heavily on them all as they planned their day ahead, dealing with the fallout of…everything, really.

“We can use him against Morgana,” Gwaine said, planting his hands on the table and leaning forward.

Arthur growled but then nodded his assent, turning away from all of them. “I hate this.”

“We know, Arthur,” Merlin said.

When all of them save Merlin left for the morning, Arthur brought up Agravaine again. While arranging Arthur’s papers, Merlin smirked, more uncharacteristic malice than his typical mischief. “Just because you can’t get rid of him yet doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun with him.”

~*~

“Sire, we heard that you and your knights rode out last night,” was the only greeting Arthur received the following morning. The councilor who had spoken gazed at him, concerned.

“Yes,” Arthur replied without immediate elaboration. He moved to the head of the table before looking at his assembled advisers, his uncle standing to his side like he always did before. “Had a bit of an altercation with my sister.”

There was a collective gasp of shock from the old men. His uncle paled, before clearing his throat and masking it with a worried barrage of questions. “Are you all right? How did you survive?”

Arthur stared at his uncle. The older man had no idea Arthur knew he was the traitor. Was it because Morgana had assumed, when Arthur didn’t mention it, that they hadn’t seen Agravaine? Or did Agravaine just not have contact with her anymore?

“We were saved,” Arthur continued, “by a wizard named Emrys – apparently that’s the name of the one I sought out to save my father.”

“You mean the old man?” Agravaine asked, both incredulous and pensive. Did Morgana already tell him, and he was just pretending, Arthur wondered? Did he intend to take this ‘new’ information to her later? 

“I assume so,” Arthur said calmly, looking away from his uncle. “That’s what Morgana called him, anyway – Emrys.”

He spared a moment to stare down at the table, away from even his uncle’s direction. Playing stupid for him was going to be difficult, mostly because Arthur wanted desperately to shake the man and demand why he was being loyal to Morgana over his own sister’s son.

He wondered what his mother would say.

“It’s clear that Morgana is relentless in her hatred of Camelot,” Arthur resumed. “Short of an elaborate enchantment beyond our understanding, all of this is the result of her loss of sanity. There is no logic, and even if she had political ambitions, they have been drowned by her madness. The woman I knew is gone.”

A ripple of anxiety ran through the council, and after a moment of silence, he continued.

“This makes our search for the traitor ever more important. I want the guards to report _anyone_ who enters or leaves Camelot at night, and anyone caught without a good reason entering or leaving at night will be questioned.”

“Sire,” Agravaine said carefully. “Are you sure this is the right way to go about finding this traitor?”

He snorted inwardly. _What will you do now, Uncle?_ Arthur thought. _Now that your rank will no longer protect you from my search?_

“Yes,” Arthur maintained. “At this point it’s the only way I can see that is likely to give us even a hint as to the traitor’s identity.”

Arthur wanted to feel vindication at the nervousness swimming in Agravaine’s eyes. Instead, he just felt tired.

~*~

So of course, he got back to his chambers to find his kingdom in need of him again.

Arthur thought back to the moment he confessed to wanting Morgana to have taken the crown, and felt guilty over his selfish reasons for it. He missed the days he could attend to every village himself, and tried unsuccessfully not to rage at the impotence of being unable to.

“Forgive me, sire,” the woman said as she finished her explanation. “I have no right to bring this before the king.”

Was this what his father had done? Made the people fear to seek help from the very leaders that were supposed to protect them, help them, when they could not do so themselves?

“Nonsense,” he shook his head. “You have every right to seek help from the king.”

Arthur knew his father had been a good king, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying to be an even better one.

He promised the woman he would have someone sent, only to sigh when he saw the many sick citizens in Gaius’ chambers.

“Send Merlin,” Gaius suggested once Arthur explained the dilemma.

“ _Merlin_?” Arthur asked, incredulous. Merlin glared at him, but remained focused on mopping up the current patient’s brow.

“Well, yes, sire,” Gaius replied, raising an eyebrow. “Merlin is a competent enough healer in his own right. He can observe these villagers and prescribe a remedy. If he is unable to treat them himself, he will know what information to bring back to me, what findings to keep and what to ignore -”

“Findings?” Arthur repeated, the dubiousness clear in his tone. “He can barely find his own backside.”

“Oi!” Merlin protested. “You locked me up in your chambers and disappeared into the forest and I still nearly found you!”

“And yet, in the end, _we_ found _you_ ,” Arthur said blithely.

“Sire,” Gaius said, cutting into their exchange before Merlin could do something rash, like throw a wet cloth at Arthur’s head. “I am quite serious, he can go as acting physician. If nothing else, he can support the patients until I can travel there myself. I believe the worst of this will be cleared in a few days, and Camelot will be able to go without me while I attend the villages.”

Arthur slowly nodded. He almost told Merlin to prepare the horses right then and there, before remembering, right, he was king, and he needed to delegate. Damn.

“All right, then, Merlin,” Arthur said. “You’ll go. Guinevere intends to go back with Mary. And take the knights with you – Leon, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival.”

Both Gaius and Merlin frowned, but Arthur cutoff their predictable protests.

“This is going to leave my uncle with his guard down,” Arthur said in a low tone. “It’s no secret that you, Guinevere, and the knights are the ones I trust most. As far as he’s concerned, the only ally I have left is a physician who is too busy with patients to protect me. I want to see what he will do.”

“What if he tries to hurt you?” Merlin asked, concerned.

“I’m not completely defenseless, Merlin, I’ve been doing just fine on my own for years before you came along.”

“You weren’t king back then,” Merlin muttered, adding something else under his breath that Arthur chose not to hear as the other man turned back towards the patient.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’ll only be gone a few days, and it’s been barely two since we encountered Morgana. Even she knows better than to try anything just yet.”

“I still don’t like it,” Merlin said, his tone both petulant and grave.

“You don’t have to, Merlin, you just have to do it,” Arthur said curtly.

Hours later after attending to various other royal duties, he watched as Merlin packed, saying, “Are you really going to be an acting physician? Or is Gaius just sending you for lack of anyone better to send?”

Merlin sighed as he looked up. For a moment, Arthur found himself struck by the wariness in Merlin’s face before he spoke.

“I -”

“I have full faith in him, sire,” Gaius said, coming up from behind Arthur with his medicine bag and handing it to a shocked Merlin.

For a moment, Merlin stared at the bag in his hand, eyes wide and jaw precariously loose. “I can’t take this!” 

“I have plenty of supplies here,” Gaius said with a fond, proud smile. He then started talking in medical jargon that meant nothing to Arthur, but which Merlin seemed to understand every word of.

Nonetheless, even Arthur could understand the significance of Gaius giving this bag to Merlin.

He wondered if Merlin would one day go from being his servant to his physician. Arthur wanted to look forward to that arrangement, but all he could focus on was having George as his manservant in Merlin’s place – and more importantly, _not_ having Merlin at his side at all times.

“If you are so competent in medicine,” Arthur said, “how come no one’s ever mentioned it?”

“It never came up,” Merlin replied, in that face-ducking-voice-lowering manner Arthur now knew to mean Merlin was hiding something, though not necessarily lying outright.

“What else are you keeping from me?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “What other skills?”

Merlin froze for a second, before finally packing the medicine bag into the rest of his things and saying, “Quite a bit.”

Arthur slowly nodded. “Right, well... good luck then.” He paused. “And Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

What should Arthur say – don’t get yourself killed? Or those patients? Don’t worry about me? Come back alive?

In the end, he said, “Don’t lose your backside.” It didn’t really make sense and probably would have sounded much better in his head if he’d thought about it before blurting it out. Merlin just smiled, anyway.

“Same goes to you,” Merlin said. “But I suppose since you _are_ an arse it would be hard to lose ‒ AH!”

Arthur laughed as Merlin flailed around after having the pillow thrown at him. Then he dodged Merlin’s rather feeble throw in return.

“It seems we still have to work on your aim!” he called as he left the room, laughing. He knew it would only be a few days, but he would miss this.

He supposed, at least, it would mean that no one would fight George over his meal arrangements. The stuffy man might even take that as a kind of vacation.

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!

~*~

Arthur spent the next three days keeping a sharp eye on his uncle, but Agravaine seemed to know better than to try anything so soon.

At least, not _in_ Camelot.

“They should have been back by now,” Arthur said, skin crawling as he turned his back on his uncle to look out the window. “Or at least sent word.”

Arthur almost wanted to leave Agravaine behind on his journey, not wanting to risk the man sabotaging his search, but he was even less inclined to risk him sabotaging _Camelot_ in his absence. So he swallowed down his fear and told Agravaine to get ready, and didn’t bother hiding his relief from Gaius when the old physician said, “Most of my patients are well and none of them need me any longer. I will accompany you, sire.”

On one hand this left no one he _truly_ trusted back in Camelot to keep watch; on the other hand, he knew exactly where the worst threat was, and that was within his line of sight, and contained.

Well, relatively. Arthur knew Gaius kept secrets from him too, but at least he could be certain that the old man wasn’t conspiring with his mad half-sister to kill him and raze the kingdom to the ground.

“At least you are honest and tell me the truth,” Arthur said to Hengroen, patting the horse’s neck. His steed stooped down and took another bite of hay, and a bit of his cloak in the process. Arthur laughed. “I thought so.” He pressed his face into the horse’s shoulders and murmured, “At least I can depend on you.”

~*~

“Does my uncle think me an idiot?” Arthur asked Gaius quietly as they followed what Arthur was desperately sure were his men’s tracks.

“Sire?” Gaius asked, confused.

“I know he’s erasing their tracks,” Arthur growled. “He’s not doing a very good job of hiding that someone is erasing their trail.”

However, what he _did_ do a good job of was hiding where those tracks were going. They were practically disappearing as they rode forth, and even keeping his uncle behind him, so to speak, only prolonged that stage. Eventually, his uncle got to enough of them to effectively leave Arthur with no tracks to follow.

“Sire,” Agravaine eventually said. “We should return to the village.”

_I should run you through with my sword,_ he thought with a snarl. If anything happened to his friends…

“No,” Arthur said instead, making every effort to master his fury.

“We can continue in the morning.”

“They may be dead by morning,” Arthur snapped. At Agravaine’s face, he couldn’t help but wonder if Agravaine knew what was wrong with them, where they were... if this was another plot.

“Sire-”

“There should be an abandoned castle this way,” Arthur said, leaving no room for further argument. Directing his horse to where any one of them might be mostly likely to go. It was as good a direction as any. “They probably took shelter there.”

~*~

What he’d been hoping for was to find his knights in castle.

What he got was Guinevere meeting them on horseback, screaming about some snake monster and the men being in danger. One of her eyes was swollen shut, and the other shone with terror.

“It’s this girl,” Guinevere explained breathlessly. “Lamia.”

“Not a girl,” Arthur said, remembering the villagers’ words. “A creature, according to Gaius.”

The horror on Guinevere’s face made him urge his horse on even faster, her words lost to the wind and his fear as he raced toward the castle.

“Guinevere,” he said as he dismounted outside the entrance. “You need to stay here.”

“No,” she shook her head firmly. “My brother and friends are in there, enchanted or not. I’ll not abandon them!”

Shaking his head irritably, Arthur tossed her his sword and took up a spear. As they strode carefully up the steps, he wondered, _Is leaving them to me really like abandoning them?_

But he had no time to pursue that thought. He gestured for his uncle, Gaius, and two knights to remain outside, then he and the rest strode forth into the castle depths. Then he focused on the task before him: finding his knights and his servant.

What he found instead was a monster.

For a moment he stared at it, thinking of his knights and Merlin and wondering how they held up against it. He also wondered how the hell this thing was supposed to be related to a snake, before lifting up his spear.

With a roar of fury that this thing would _dare_ harm his friends, he threw the spear at it, only to watch in dismay as the weapon barely scratched it. The monster growled, sounding irritated, and began lumbering toward him.

“Get away from him!” he heard Guinevere shout and run towards the monster. Arthur couldn’t even call out her name, much less lunge forward to stop her forward momentum, before his sword plunged into the creature’s flesh.

Just as before, though, while it damaged the creature, the lamia still kept coming. Guinevere barely managed to pull the sword free before scrambling back towards Arthur and their companions.

“Give me a weapon,” he ordered over his shoulder, hand out. A sword hardly appeared in his hand when suddenly the creature screeched and turned to look over its... to behind itself. Much to Arthur’s shock, there a ball of light was bouncing around, hitting the creature rapidly on different parts of its body.

A vary _familiar_ ball of light.

“The light from the cave,” Arthur murmured to himself, momentarily as captivated by it now as he was half a decade ago. Years later, and he could still recognize it as if it had been yesterday.

Sometimes it _felt_ like it was yesterday – when his father was alive and his sister was well and things were simple. All these years later, and he could still feel the care and safety and hope emanating from it. Something like _home_ , the kind you found not in a place but in people.

The ball flew at the creature one more time, and it screeched even though the light didn’t appear to do any harm. It did, however, fly around the creature, towards them...

...and straight into his sword in Guinevere’s hands, which promptly burst into blue flames.

“Guinevere!” he hissed, about to demand she drop it, when he realized nothing was actually happening to the sword, or to her hand so close to the magical flames.

“No,” she said, the pale light from the flames turning her face into a mess of angles and putting her bruised eye and swollen, cut lip into stark contrast. Her undamaged eye was bright with wonder. “It’s... it’s here to help.”

Even Arthur could feel that. Thinking quickly, he shouted to get the creature’s attention. As the looming monster approached him, Guinevere gave a war cry he hadn’t heard the likes of from her since Ealdor, and threw herself at the monster.

Arthur flinched at the sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone that echoed through the hallway, drowned out only by the howling of the creature. He kicked at the creature’s head and two of his men stabbed it again with swords and spears, this time the blades and shafts going through. Face full of both terror and fury, Guinevere twisted the blade once more, thrusting the sword in even more deeply.

Within moments, the creature gave its last screech on the ground, before going still in death.

“ _That’s_ supposed to be the byproduct of a snake and a little girl?!” one of his knights demanded incredulously.

“What?” Guinevere asked, confused.

“Gaius,” Arthur said, which wasn’t really an answer, but she took it as one anyway.

“We have to search the castle,” she told him. “I know where Elyan is, but the others had all gone off and I left him behind when I heard screaming. I went to find you.” She swallowed, finally managing to loosen her muscles enough to lower the sword to the ground. “I’d hoped you would have sent someone, but I didn’t expect to find you so fast.”

“Well we’re here now,” Arthur said. “Now we just have to... find...”

Guinevere followed his line of sight, and everyone watched as the flames flew up from the sword, up and up and coalescing into the little ball of light once more.

It approached him, slowly circling around him before quickly going off down the hall, vanishing around the corner. When none of them moved, it returned, bounced once impatiently, and disappeared again.

“Follow it,” Guinevere ordered him.

He didn’t argue with her. “You two,” Arthur said, pointing to the knights nearest to him, “go with her to get Elyan. The rest of you, with me!”

They ran down the hall after the light, through the maze of hallways and corridors.

“Sire,” one of the knights asked, a little uncertain, “can you be sure of this... magic?”

“I recognize that light,” Arthur informed him, panting but not slowing down in the slightest. “It has saved my life and my friend’s once before, and it did so again just now.”

The light finally stopped outside an archway, and Arthur walked into see Gwaine, Leon, and Percival all unconscious on the floor. Gwaine and Percival were pale as death and Leon was bleeding from the head.

As the soldiers and guardsmen swarmed over their brethren, Arthur frowned as he looked around, before turning towards the light.

“Where’s Merlin?” he asked, not caring how foolish he looked.

The little ball darted out of the small side-hall, and Arthur followed it, up another flight of stairs and into another corridor. Arthur could feel an inexplicable dread growing with every step, but he pushed forward, desperate to get to Merlin before dealing with anything else. He knew where everyone else was and that they were safe, he just needed to find his idiotic, stupidly noble manservant and-

There, curled up against debris in the middle of a large room, unconscious and badly beaten but _alive_ , was Merlin. Arthur fell to his knees beside Merlin, and only flinched when suddenly the light went out. “Merlin?” he murmured, shaking his friend’s shoulder, and Merlin stirred, blinking as if his eyes were dry before turning his gaze upwards. Despite the dim light, his eyes shone worryingly bright.

“Ar...’Rthur?”

“Right here,” Arthur said, weaving his arm under both of Merlin’s to help him sit up. Merlin hissed, clutching his stomach, and he knew there was no way Merlin was going over his shoulder.

“Come on,” Arthur said. “Gaius is here and the lamia is dead.”

“Knights... enchanted...” Merlin’s eyes drifted shut from the effort of moving. He whimpered as Arthur shifted him again.

“We know,” Arthur assured him, before frowning at the way Merlin flinched, and taking a closer look at Merlin’s black eye and the bruise on his jaw. The furrow in his brow deepened as Merlin tried to grab at Arthur’s chainmail and he saw the deep bruises around Merlin’s wrist.

They didn’t look like they came from a tentacle monster.

In fact, there were bruises around Merlin’s neck that looked distinctly like… handprints.

“Merlin,” he said lowly. “Did... did the knights do this?”

Merlin opened his eyes. “Enchanted,” he implored.

“So they did do this?”

“Th’were enchanted,” Merlin mumbled.

“But it was them?” Arthur persisted.

Merlin closed his eyes again, turning his head to press his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck, which was all the answer Arthur needed.

“Okay, Merlin, this is going to hurt, but I’m going to lift you up so we can take you back downstairs,” Arthur said carefully, realigning the arm under Merlin’s back and slipping his other arm under Merlin’s knees. “Gaius is here, he can take care of you. We’ll stop and rest at the village before we go home, and you can get better.” He paused. “But just in case, let me make this clear: you are _not_ allowed to die. If you do, I will put you in the stocks in the afterlife and throw rotten fruit at you for eternity.”

Merlin smiled, and Arthur returned it as best as he could, before shifting himself to his knees, then squatting on his feet. “Brace yourself,” he said, before lifting Merlin up. Merlin shuddered and curled closer to Arthur in his arms, fingers twisting Arthur’s chainmail in a white-knuckled grip, before he slackened in unconsciousness.

“You’ll be okay, Merlin,” he murmured, turning carefully and trying not to jostle Merlin’s body too much. “You have to be okay.” As they headed out of the room, Arthur tried to remember the way back down, retracing his steps as he best as he could while clutching Merlin as tightly to his chest as he dared.

He looked down at Merlin in his arms and said, “You’re such a girl, Merlin.”

Merlin didn’t respond.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday, and so I'm celebrating by posting fic! :)
> 
> For those of you following the fic on the kinkmeme, I've updated there, as well.


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

Leon was the first to awaken, bleary and incoherent. The other knights were quick to follow, and Elyan looked up to see Guinevere fussing over him and the first words he said were, “Oh, god, Gwen, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry -”

“You were enchanted,” she said to both her brother and over her shoulder to the knights. It didn’t seem to penetrate their minds, though, as Gwaine looked up in horror and asked fearfully, “Merlin? Where’s Merlin?” 

Arthur pointed to the very end of the little hut. Merlin lay shirtless on a cot, covered in salves and bandages, with a large, flat poultice on his stomach.

The knights all looked towards him, horrified, and Arthur said, “I’d be ready to discipline you right now, but the only words Merlin said before he passed out was that you were enchanted.” Their own guilt would be punishment enough as they all continued to stare at Merlin.

Arthur stayed for a little longer, until Gaius and Gwen renewed their fussing over the knights. Arthur walked outside, then into the next hut over where John was looking after his village patients, and where the slave trader was laying in a distant cot, bound to his sickbed. Agravaine stood over them all.

_Were you in on this?_ Arthur viciously wanted to demand. _Are you the reason my servant is beaten and my knights are broken?_

Instead, he gritted his teeth and asked, “How are they?”

“These boys will make a full recovery, Gaius says,” John replied. “He says they can be back out in the fields in a week.”

“And this one is fit enough to return to Camelot for trial,” Agravaine said simply, gesturing to the slave trader.

Arthur nodded and then walked out, and as he looked around, he was struck with a moment of helplessness as he realized he had nothing to do.

“Arthur?”

He turned to Guinevere behind him, and smiled sadly as she leaned into his embrace.

“ _Are_ you okay?” Arthur asked.

“I will be,” she assured him. “I just… I just need to keep reminding myself it _wasn’t_ them these past few days, it was the lamia. It’s just… difficult.”

Arthur thought back to the moment when Gaius stripped Merlin to nothing but his breeches and revealed the extent of his injuries. He nodded, his chin rubbing against her hair.

“What… how exactly did Merlin get those injuries?” Arthur asked.

“Let me say this,” Guinevere started, and Arthur tried not to think of Gwaine saying the same thing before naming Agravaine the traitor. “They were enchanted. There is no doubt about that, and I place no blame on them for something completely out of their control.”

“Guinevere,” Arthur chided, “that wasn’t my question.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

He pulled her closer as she took a deep breath, clearly more to steady herself than for speech.

“Half of the injuries were over the course of the journey,” Guinevere finally explained, leaning back to look up at him. “Merlin kept demanding they turn back, shouting about how they were enchanted, saying he knew one when he saw it after the ‘assassination’ incident. We tried to drug them at one point, so we could strap them to the horses and take them back to Camelot – but the lamia’s enchantment made them resistant to it, I think, and when the knights found out… Merlin made sure all the blame was on him. Well, most of it.”

Arthur looked at her fading black eye and reached up to trace his fingers over it. “Who…?”

“Elyan,” she told him. “I tried to take some of the blame so Merlin wouldn’t end up too badly hurt, but Merlin kept their attention on him, demanding I be well enough to take care of him afterwards. But it wasn’t too bad, the lamia really wanted to get to the castle, so the knights…grew bored, quickly.”

Arthur knew there was more to this, even if she wasn’t saying what.

“Some of the worst came from the castle when we lost the lamia and Merlin insisted we leave, and leave her behind. The knights ran off to find her, as did Merlin. I think that’s when the worst of it must have come, them trying to keep him away from her.”

Guinevere was close to tears. Arthur pulled her close again and rubbed her back as gently as he could while she wept into his shoulder, mindful that just because they were more covered up didn’t mean she didn’t have bruises of her own.

Later, around sundown, Arthur returned to the hut they were occupying and saw Merlin huddled before the fire, wrapped up in four red cloaks and clutching the biggest bowl available full of stew. The knights sipped warily from their own, much smaller, bowls. Gwaine wasn’t eating at all, simply staring down into the depths of his dinner as if it were the enemy. There was already one empty bowl on the table, likely from Gaius, who was sleeping soundly in a corner near the fire, out of everyone else’s immediate sight.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Merlin said, smiling up at him cheerfully. “Can you order them to stop being so stupid?”

Arthur blinked. “How are they being stupid?”

Merlin rolled his eyes, then winced at the pain it caused in his black eye. Percival flinched.

“They were enchanted,” Merlin reminded him. “And I’ve been enchanted. I know what it’s like, and I don’t blame them at all.”

He tried to use his chin to pull one of the cloaks a little tighter over his shoulder, only for Elyan to immediately get up and pull it tighter around his body for him.

No one missed the way Merlin flinched as Elyan’s hand neared his ribs, or the way his entire body sat stiffly until the knight was sitting back down.

“You lot can come closer, you know,” Merlin said, anyway. “This is just a… reaction. Bodily reaction. I’ll get over it soon enough, even faster the more I’m around you.”

They all looked warily at each other, and Merlin sighed. Arthur got the feeling Merlin had told them this before. The price of being good and honorable men was the way guilt was quick to come and slow to leave.

Guinevere came up behind him. Gwaine and Percival gave her small, hesitant smiles, while Leon and Elyan turned away. Guinevere walked over to crouch by Merlin, who offered her one of the cloaks, saying with forced cheer, “If the knights refuse to use them they might as well be put to better use than boiling me alive.”

She laughed and said, “In a moment.” She then walked over to a corner and lifting up four blankets, draping one over each knight. They all looked up to her as if trying to say something, but under her stern glare, they stayed quiet.

Guinevere took one of the cloaks Merlin offered for herself, draping another one over Gaius’ sleeping form. Arthur sighed and also sat by Merlin before the hearth, before gesturing the knights closer with a brisk, “You won’t make it up to him by freezing to death. You’ll just make yourselves inconvenient for the rest of us.”

They shuffled closer, subdued in a way Arthur had never seen of them before, and he hoped never to see again after this.

Even if he was on their side. Enchantment or not, Merlin was still badly beaten and struggling to even sit upright, leaning against Guinevere to spoon the stew up to his lips with shaking hands. Merlin’s face was also turned away from the knights, so he could see the pain in Merlin’s eyes, deeper than his injuries and fear.

“So,” Guinevere spoke up, turning her gaze towards Arthur. “You said you recognized that magic ball of light that rescued us?”

Merlin stiffened again, but said nothing.

“Yes,” Arthur replied, turning his gaze back to the burning logs in the fireplace. “When I went to get a morteus flower after Merlin was poisoned by Nimueh. The witch had left me trapped in the cave, and there were these giant spiders approaching me. That same exact light appeared and showed me the way out.”

“Do you think it was Emrys?” Guinevere asked.

“Maybe,” Arthur admitted. “Or maybe there’s another sorcerer out there on my side.” He paused. “This one had saved Merlin and I twice, and now all of you. I… I am not opposed to this sorcerer being on our side, whoever he or she is, Emrys or not.” He frowned. “Though I would rather they have healed Merlin, too, if they could do magic that powerful.”

“Not every sorcerer does healing magic so easily,” Merlin pointed out. “Besides, even if they offered, I was so out of it I probably would have refused out of habit.”

Arthur frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had the chance to get help from magic,” Merlin told him. “But with Uther, and the way you were until recently, I’ve fallen into the habit of refusing, just in case. Especially if it’ll obviously be magic. Don’t want to get burned for consorting with sorcerers.”

Arthur thought back to Mary apologizing for asking him for help, and sighed. “I’m not my father, Merlin. I don’t intend to punish anyone for seeking or receiving help.”

“Even if that help is magical?” Guinevere asked curiously.

“Even if that help is magical,” Arthur confirmed, nodding.

Merlin smiled at him, and when he took another spoonful of broth, his hands were just a little less shaky.

For a few moments, they rested in silence, the knights still refusing to say anything. Sleep slowly clouded their eyes and loosened their posture, and the warmth relaxed them all.

Merlin abruptly laughed, cold, harsh, and abrasive.

“What?” Arthur asked.

“You, Gaius, me, the knights… I think Guinevere is the only person in this room who hasn’t been enchanted yet.” He turned to her, both amused and saddened. “I guess we better watch out for you.”

She laughed too, a little nervous. Arthur thought of Morgana’s insane hatred and part of him wondered if Merlin was right.

But that wouldn’t happen tonight. Tonight, he and Guinevere arranged everyone’s bedding to be as close as possible while still decent, ignoring the knight’s protests about needing to be kept away from Merlin for his own good and Guinevere for propriety. In the end the knights dropped off to sleep, then Merlin, and for a few moments he and Guinevere sat in the meager warmth and fading light of the dying fire, watching over them.

“Will they ever get past this?” Arthur asked.

“I hope so,” Guinevere said, before she too went to sleep. Arthur stayed up until the fire went out completely. He then crawled into his bedding, taking one last look at his closest friends before finally going to sleep.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking so long to update. Assuming things don't go too crazy at work*, I'll finish this fic by this weekend, and update the kinkmeme story as well.
> 
> * = sidenote: I have a job! Seasonal job, but I'll take what I can get. :)


	4. Chapter 4

~*~

Arthur took the lead of their small procession riding back to Camelot, Guinevere to his left and Merlin to hers. Agravaine and Gaius rode behind him and the knights brought up the rear, all still subdued from the effects of the lamia.

“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked Merlin.

“I told you, I’m fine!” Merlin said, rolling his eyes, as if he weren’t wincing every few steps the horse took. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

He looked over to Guinevere, whose own bruises were fading. She gave Merlin a long, considering look, before she nodded to Arthur. Merlin was holding up for now.

Arthur glanced back at the knights, still cowed from the realization of what they’d done to Merlin and Guinevere. Gaius was looking everywhere but forward as he took in all the plant life surrounding them, and Agravaine appeared far too smug every time he looked at the knights, Guinevere, or Merlin.

Once upon a time, Arthur could claim to breathe easier once within the walls of Camelot. However, with the traitor standing behind him and knowledge of how deep the creature’s magic got into his knights, his relief wouldn’t come.

Guinevere helped Merlin ease himself off his horse. Arthur wanted to sigh and shake his head over the way Merlin tried to continue on with taking care of the horses and the packs like he always did when they came home. It was impossible, though, and he hissed as some pressure was put on his shoulder from an awkward angle.

Arthur said to them both, “Take the week off,” and pretended the knights didn’t all look away sharply.

“Arthur,” Merlin protested, pushing away from Guinevere to stand on his own. He swayed and had to hold on to the horse, but remained stubbornly upright.

“Get some rest, Merlin. You’re no use to me like this,” Arthur said bluntly.

~*~

So, of course, the next morning he woke up to George _and_ Merlin bickering over his table, and Arthur despaired of his manservant ever listening to him.

He wondered if other kings had to deal with this.

He pushed himself up and looked incredulously at the miniature banquet laid out before him, George lecturing Merlin aggressively – because nothing George ever did could be described as ‘yelling’ – while Merlin rearranged every dish on there.

Not bothering to announce himself, Arthur pushed himself up and went to the door. Neither manservant noticed him even after he walked right by them.

“Send for Guinevere,” he ordered the guard outside. “And for Sirs Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, and Leon as well. Tell them not to bother with breakfast, they’ll be having it with me.”

He closed the door and turned back to see both the manservants still bickering, so he pulled on his shirt then stood behind them, arms crossed.

It took only a few minutes for Arthur to tire of waiting for them to just finish and notice him.

“Ah- _hem_ ,” he coughed loudly, and smirked as both men jumped and whirled around.

“Sire!” George cried out in surprise.

“You’re up!” Merlin said, confused.

“Yes... for several minutes, now,” Arthur said. “Now step away from the table, both of you.”

They did, and Arthur sat down. When both servants attempted to serve him his breakfast, Arthur glared at them before jerking his head towards the rest of his neglected chambers with a sharp look.

They both sulked away, and the door opened with Guinevere appearing in. “Arthur?” She walked in and closed the door behind her, turning around and stopping at the sight of the breakfast laid out at the table.

“Ah, Guinevere! Sit down and have breakfast with me,” Arthur said cheerfully. He shook his head as she opened her mouth with a question already written on her face.

“Of course, sire,” she replied, hesitant. She sat down next to him and picked up a bread roll as she watched George and Merlin. The latter’s face was still bruised, much like hers, and his movements were stiff and jerky. The occasional hiss escaped his lips and he winced in pain when he thought Arthur wasn’t looking.

“Oh for god’s sake, both of you, sit down,” Arthur snapped. When George looked ready to protest, Arthur repeated sternly, “ _Both_ of you.”

They did, George taking the seat beside Guinevere and Merlin the one on Arthur’s other side. A few moments later, the knights came in. All four of them stopped when they saw Merlin and Guinevere, but before any of them could voice a protest, Arthur gestured for all of them to sit down. George looked even more distressed, but Merlin glared him into silence before he could even open his mouth.

Everyone tucked in, eating straight from the platters as the meal had originally been intended for one, though how anyone thought he could eat all that Arthur didn’t know. Finally, Arthur turned to Merlin and George and said, “Now, I have no idea why, but you two have decided to do battle over my _every meal_ , particularly my breakfast.”

George had the decency to look down at the table in shame. Merlin just set his jaw defiantly, wincing at the pain from his previous injuries.

“If eight people can eat comfortably from this meal,” Arthur said, gesturing at an amused Guinevere and the subdued knights, “then why do you think it is appropriate to bring this much food up for my breakfast?”

“That’s what I said!” Merlin cried out. “It’s too much!”

“Sire, it seems perfectly appropriate portions for a king to choose his meal from,” George protested. “The food does not go to waste once it is sent back down to the kitchens-”

“Be that as it may,” Arthur said. “If I feel like being picky about my food I will order those to be brought up. Otherwise, just bring me a few basic things to get me through the day.”

“And he’s predictable in what he wants, anyway,” Merlin said to George, a little sullen.

“Merlin,” Arthur said sternly, before turning back to George. “I have Merlin bring up my food for a reason – one of his extremely few skills is predicting what I want.”

Merlin grinned smugly.

“But you are better at actually serving it,” Arthur said, and tried not to laugh at the way Merlin deflated. “So, new arrangement – Merlin gets my food, you serve it.”

Then he looked at them both. “And you will do this peacefully and without argument. Anything else and I’ll ask Guinevere to make other arrangements for my meals. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sire,” Merlin and George both replied, the latter still picking nervously at his slip of cheese.

Guinevere’s shoulders shook as she suppressed her laughter. The knights all looked at each other in confusion, but held their tongues as they slowly and silently eat their bits of fruit, bread, and cheese.

“Sire... we really should be taking care of the chambers, at least,” George said, as though he was trying to cling to some semblance of normality.

“Oh, fine,” Arthur muttered, rolling his eyes. “Go clean the chambers.”

Merlin and George both moved to stand up, but Arthur glared at the former. “ _You_ stay seated, Merlin – I have no doubt you snuck past Gaius this morning and didn’t eat. And don’t think you’re going anywhere but _back_ after this.”

“But-”

“George will bring my armor, chainmail, and sword to you to clean while you rest in your own bed,” Arthur told him. “Now shut up and eat before you keel over.”

“You really don’t have to be so stern,” Guinevere said, barely suppressing her giggling. Merlin settled in for his meal, keeping a wary eye on a smug George as he moved around the chamber, collecting Arthur’s laundry.

“You can’t seriously be planning on making Merlin work today, can you?” Gwaine burst out, distressed.

“Finally,” Arthur sighed, leaning back in his seat to look at the knight more fully. “You being quiet is downright disturbing.”

“What happened to being condemned to his mindless chatter?” Guinevere teased.

Arthur didn’t quite stick his tongue out at her, but she seemed to understand his sentiment.

“I can work,” Merlin told Gwaine, whose eyes remained fixed on the dark bruise on Merlin’s face. “I don’t even need to stay locked up!”

“I have to let him do a few things in his chambers,” Arthur interjected, ignoring Merlin. “Or he’ll escape the first moment Gaius turns his back and go and do something even worse, like my laundry. Better to keep it controlled.”

“I’m right _here_ ,” Merlin groused.

“I’ll take care of it,” Leon volunteered. “If you need it done.”

“It’s not about it getting done, since George can handle it perfectly well,” Arthur said, gracing George with a smile. “It’s about making sure Merlin stays in his rooms where Gaius can keep an eye on him.”

“Right. Here!” Merlin sniped.

“We can at least help him?” Percival offered.

“You’re a knight, you shouldn’t be helping me,” Merlin said.

“That would utterly defeat the point,” Arthur said.

“I think he can manage some armor,” Guinevere said. “If he finishes early he can help me with mending some of the castle banners.”

“Thank you, Guinevere,” Arthur said.

“But-” Merlin started.

“George shall be taking the bulk of my chores for the next week while you recover, Merlin,” Arthur said. “ _No_ arguing!”

At the mention of Merlin’s injuries the knights all turned their heads down again, and Arthur nearly threw his hands up in exasperation.

The rest of breakfast passed largely in quiet. George worked around them all, before finally gathering up Arthur’s clothes and leaving with a bow towards Arthur and the knights, and a respectable dip of his head towards Guinevere. Merlin, he ignored completely.

Arthur and Guinevere intermittently discussed castle affairs, sorting out the mess of the cleaning arrangements in the lower nobles’ rooms over the fruits while Merlin chipped in on some mopping maids matter while nipping at his own bread roll. The knights remained entirely quiet, and Arthur knew he was not the only one perturbed by their silence.

Unlike Merlin and Guinevere, however, he also understood the feeling of seeing those injuries and realizing who was the cause. He understood the deep-seated desire to _protect_ that made them knights, and he mentally shuddered when trying to fathom the feeling of realizing just how badly they failed to do so.

While Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin were all disconcerted by the knights’ silence, only Merlin and Guinevere were concerned. Arthur knew nothing he could say would help them get over their guilt any faster. Even if he knew it wasn’t their fault, it was hard not to want them to feel guilty anyway every time he saw Guinevere’s darkened skin or Merlin’s flinching movement.

Eventually, Merlin slipped out as well, finally tired enough to go willingly back to his rooms, though that didn’t mean Arthur _wasn’t_ going to check in on him later. The knights also trickled out as they finished what they could stomach of the meal, until it was just him and Guinevere picking over the last of the food.

“Guinevere,” Arthur said, pondering over the various matters vying for his attention in his head and settling for the most readily visible issue. “I must ask, is there something going on between Merlin and George I need to know about?” 

“You’re pitting them against each other for chores, Arthur. This is them being polite,” Guinevere said earnestly.

Arthur stared at her incredulously, and she elaborated, “Every servant complains about the chores their masters hand them, but we rarely want to give up the ones we deal with directly to others, _especially_ food. We can get... possessive, of certain chores, and don’t take well to other servants taking them from us. It’s one thing if we ask for help or if a nobleman orders it, but quite another to just assume those chores. And unless you order them to do specific chores, they’re going to fight over every little thing.”

“Possessive?” Arthur asked. “Over chores?”

“During Merlin’s first month working here, he took some of Morgana’s dresses for laundering,” Guinevere said, blushing slightly as she spoke. “I warned him about servants not taking well to him just assuming certain chores, no matter how nice he was trying to be or much it made their lives easier... then I told him if he ever tried again, I’d drown him in a laundry tub.”

Arthur gaped at her, and she laughed. “I didn’t mean it, it’s just a thing we do. Within months, Merlin was promising servants new to the castle that no one would ever know they did anything but fall over the ramparts if they tried to do the same. No one takes it seriously, but... servants have their own politics, Arthur, just like noblemen. The stakes of your politics are lands and wars, our stakes are the very functioning of the castle.”

Arthur shook his head as he moved to his desk. “This is why you make a great castellan, Guinevere,” he said. Then, softly, he added, “And why you will make a great queen.”

“I’d have to marry you first, now wouldn’t I?” she said, gathering the last few of her and Arthur’s plates. “You’re the king, Arthur. You’re not expected to know these things.”

Arthur gave her a long, considering look. “Well, a queen isn’t expected to know them, either, and yet you will. You will be a very odd queen.”

Guinevere smiled at him, lifting the stacked plates almost pointedly. “I will be happily at your side when you need me as queen, Arthur, but the rest of the time... I’m not going to float around the castle and engage in petty politics. I will probably continue doing what I always do, Arthur.”

“I wouldn’t ask any more of you, Guinevere,” Arthur assured her. “I’m not sure this castle could run without you, anyway.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple before gathering up the stacked plates and carrying them out the door.

~*~

By the end of that week, Arthur really wasn’t surprised to see Merlin back in his rooms again, and Arthur just shook his head as he watched Merlin painstakingly pour hot bathwater into Arthur’s tub.

“You don’t need to take care of all of that yourself, Merlin,” Arthur said.

“I’m not an invalid,” Merlin insisted stubbornly, and Arthur gave up trying to talk him out of it.

Instead, he waited until Merlin was done, and then ordered, “Strip.”

Merlin’s eyes went as wide as his ears as he said, “What?!”

“Strip,” Arthur repeated, before gesturing to the tub. “You need this bath more than I do.”

It took so more convincing and cajoling, but eventually, Arthur watched as Merlin’s bruised body sank beneath the nearly boiling surface, and smiled at the look of bliss on the other man’s face, before laying out Merlin’s clothes before the fire.

This was not something Arthur did often, even if he had done it before. Sometimes he used it merely as a reward for Merlin, and occasionally as a way of taking care of him.

Though he usually wasn’t as open about it as he was today. Looking at the bruises on Merlin’s body and seeing his face relaxed for seemingly the first time in a week, though, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Merlin splashed around a bit before washing himself, running the soap carefully over his bruises as Arthur worked on the castle accounts.

Even out of the corner of his eye, turned mostly away to grant Merlin a measure of privacy he was more accustomed to, Arthur could see how carefully Merlin still moved.

The knights had really done him over under the lamia’s enchantment.

Merlin got out soon enough, dressing himself and replacing some of the water – though Arthur stopped him from replacing the entire bath outright – and preparing Arthur’s clothes for the day as Arthur undressed and dipped into the tub himself. He spent a few moments merely soaking in the hot water, before leaning his head back so Merlin could soap his head.

“I’m remembering again why you insist on so many baths, despite how inconvenient they are,” Merlin commented, working soap into his scalp. “Especially since you get a servant to help you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and settled into Merlin’s ministrations.

“Merlin...”

“Uh oh,” Merlin muttered.

“‘Uh oh’? What do you mean, ‘uh oh’?”

“That’s your ‘we have serious business to discuss voice’,” Merlin said, pouring some water over Arthur’s head to wash the soap away.

“I take matters concerning Guinevere very seriously,” Arthur said cautiously.

“What matters?” 

“I was just thinking... when Guinevere killed the lamia,” Arthur said. “I’d forgotten how much of a warrior she can be in her own right... how brave she is.”

“She spends her free time _making_ weapons and you forgot all this?” Merlin asked, incredulous.

Arthur frowned. “She makes weapons in her free time?”

“Well, every now and then,” Merlin said easily, handing Arthur a washcloth and moving to lay out Arthur’s clothes by the fire. “She says it helps her relax. Mostly small or jeweled knives for paranoid nobles, but still...it makes for a nice commission on the side of her usual wages.”

Arthur smiled. “All the more reason she’ll make a good queen.”

“You’ve been saying that for years, Arthur,” Merlin told him.

“And now I’m considering proposing to her,” Arthur said blithely.

“Because she killed a snake monster?” Merlin asked. “I mean I know all men find their passions kindled by different things but that seems to be taking it a little too far-”

He jumped, laughing, as Arthur swatted at his thigh with a lazy, wet hand.

“Don’t be so crass, Merlin, it’s nothing like that,” Arthur said, bringing his arm back into the water. “Just...”

He paused, and sighed. “Do you remember once when I told you about how, when we were children, Morgana and I planned for our reign? I would go out to the kingdom and protect the people from bandits and invaders, while she would be the perfectly lethal stateswoman at home. We’d even planned to marry, at some point, as we decided if we were going to be in a political marriage it might as well be with someone we know, and, well, we loved each other then, even if we didn’t like each other. I… she was my sister in… well, as far as we _knew_ , she was my sister in all but blood.”

Merlin was uncharacteristically quiet, and Arthur turned to see Merlin crouching by his clothes, staring into the flames.

“What’s that got to do with Gwen, then?” Merlin asked, voice oddly thick like there was a lump in his throat.

Sitting back against the side of the tub, Arthur said, “I never wanted some sort of beautiful queen whose only purpose was to bear heirs and look pretty on my family tree. I always wanted someone who would rule _with_ me. The reason I let that nonsense with Elena go on for so long was because I knew she would be willing to rule with me, but even then...”

“Gwen’s not exactly an upstart noblewoman,” Merlin finished for him.

“Exactly,” Arthur agreed. “She keeps this castle running while we’re here, and she’s shown more than once she makes a good leader – remember Ealdor?”

“How could I not?” Merlin said, and Arthur nearly kicked himself. Right, his best friend and sorcerer had died then. He considered saying something, but then decided to just move on.

“There you go, then,” Arthur said. “She knows how to take care of herself, and won’t just be some ornament dangling off my arm, but a true partner in marriage and monarchy.”

“So just ask her to marry you, already,” Merlin said, voice sounding closer to normal as he started shuffling papers around on Arthur’s desk again.

“I will, I think,” Arthur said.

“When?”

“I… don’t know,” Arthur admitted, and Merlin snorted. “I mean... I don’t even know _how_ I should propose to her.”

“It’s easy: Gwen, will you please marry me?” Merlin said. “It’s one question, Arthur.”

“First off, Merlin, her name is _Guinevere_ , and just because the rest of you refuse to pronounce it correctly doesn’t mean I have to join you.”

“You do realize she usually introduces herself to people as Gwen, right?” He could hear the smirk in Merlin’s voice.

Arthur ignored him. “Second, I can’t just... ask her that over breakfast. It has to be... special. Romantic.”

“Will there be chicken?”

Arthur balled up the rag and threw it at Merlin’s head. Merlin ducked, laughing, and it sailed over his head to land with a wet _plop_ against the far wall.

“I mean it, Merlin,” Arthur said. “I... I’m not going to half-arse this. If I’m going to do it, I’ll do it right.”

Merlin laughed. “I’ll get to writing a nice proposal speech, then, shall I?”

“I can write one on my own,” Arthur said petulantly, though he didn’t order Merlin to not write one. Just in case.

“Of course you can,” Merlin said with his familiar teasing tone. “But seriously, when? If nothing else, set yourself a deadline or something. Half the castle is already asking when you’ll get on with it, anyway.”

Arthur thought. “I’ll wait until she’s completely recovered from the lamia. It’s going to feel wrong asking her to be queen with bruises still on her face.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” Merlin said warningly. “She’s already a high-priority target just because people know she’s close to you and that you want to marry her. The moment you announce that she is actually going to be your queen-”

“Well she’s already proven she’s more than capable of taking care of herself,” Arthur pointed out, trying to hide his own unease.

“And Arthur... Morgana’s not going to be happy about this,” Merlin continued. “She tried to have Gwen killed just because she had a _vision_ that Gwen would be queen. If she finds out it’s actually happening...she will be all the more enraged.”

“Then we’ll be ready,” Arthur said. “Perhaps we can use this, use Agravaine, somehow...”

“And you won’t let Agravaine talk you away from Gwen again?” Merlin asked, a little anxious. Arthur glared at him, and Merlin raised his hands in appeasing surrender. “I’m just saying-”

“Well don’t,” Arthur snapped. “I know I let my uncle have too much sway over me, Merlin. Please, don’t remind me how much.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said sincerely.

For a few moments, Merlin rinsed out the last of the soap from his hair in peaceful silence. Then:

“So how much chicken will you bring?” Merlin asked cheekily. “I mean you’re asking her to marry you so it should probably be a lot-”

“ _Merlin!_ ”

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, things got crazy at work. But work's over now, so it's okay. I'll try to post the next fic in the series (Shining Shards of Shattered Hearts) later on this week.
> 
> In the mean time, let me know what you think! Anything you liked, anything you think I should work on, or anything you'd like to see more of. :) I love hearing from you guys! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! Concrit and compliments always loved and appreciated. :)


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